


the evidence of fate given to me (the origin of my dreams)

by HotFuckingMess (moonchild734)



Series: soulmates, dreamscapes & everything in between [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Dark Romance, Dream Sex, Dubious Morality, Feral Behavior, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, MAMA Era Powers (EXO), Morally Ambiguous Character, Murder, Mutual Pining, Possessive Behavior, Psychic Bond, Smut, Soulmates, Strangers to Lovers, Supernatural Elements, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unreliable Narrator, based kinda off the berserk universe, but not between chansoo, dreamscape, its like....a mild sorta berserk universe, kyungsoo isnt a good man in this, maybe? - Freeform, my universe isnt as bleak or horrific, sharing dreams, there are references, though it isnt a walk in the park either, though neither is chanyeol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 00:08:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20164891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonchild734/pseuds/HotFuckingMess
Summary: Prompt #96: Chanyeol keeps dreaming about a boy he never met before.Chanyeol had always been a dreamer.But out of all the dreams he had, one had always stuck with him. Onetype, to be more specific. In those certain types of dreams, he didn't need to be some horrendous monster; he didn't need to be crying his eyes out; he didn't need to be brimming with joy or fighting against a villain to protect the innocent. He could be himself. He could be normal. He could be...Chanyeoland Chanyeol only. In those dreams he could meet him--his dream boy.Or a dark!chansoo, soulmate au that is set in medieval times and full of magic and death





	1. our meeting is like a mathematical formula (commandments of religion, providence of the universe)

**Author's Note:**

> I'll try to keep this short sksksd  
But ChanSoo is my ultimate, ultimate ship and I had so much fun creating this universe  
I had so much more planned, but I'm thinking of making this a series instead of fitting it all into one fic  
Because honestly??? 14k is too freaking much asdfllk
> 
> But do expect more for this, as I planned on making two more parts!!  
All titles from [DNA](https://youtu.be/MBdVXkSdhwU) by BTS

** _X777_ **

Chanyeol had always been a dreamer.

He dreamt of slaying dragons, saving princesses and earning heaps of praise and gold in return. He dreamt of venturing outside the tower he was trapped in, going on glorious adventures with a band of friends; setting sail on the high seas with his vicious but protective pirate crew looking for buried treasure. He dreamt of meeting someone who could understand him, look at him without fearing his strange powers; look at him with love and affection instead of hatred and disgust. He dreamt all different types of dreams; dreams that could put a wide smile on his face; dreams that could make him laugh until tears came to his eyes; dreams that would have him fighting against an invisible force trying to claw their way at his neck; dreams where _he_ did the clawing and biting and killing and _burning_.

But out of all the dreams he had, one had always stuck with him. One _type_, to be more specific. They weren't overwhelmingly sad, and they weren’t obnoxiously happy either. Neither were they too artificial and fake for him to immerse himself into. They were...warm; realistic and peaceful in a way he never knew dreams could be. In those certain types of dreams, he didn't need to be some horrendous monster; he didn't need to be crying his eyes out; he didn't need to be brimming with joy or fighting against a villain to protect the innocent. He could be himself. He could be normal. He could be..._Chanyeol_ and Chanyeol only.

They--the dreams--happened every month like clockwork. They always took place on the night of the new moon. It was a time where his power was the strongest, fire crackling under his skin like millions of tiny insects. Stray flames would flare up all over his body, his clothes turning black near the edges because of their intense heat. On those nights, he made sure to keep himself as far away from his bed as he could. The only things that were flammable were his clothes, bedsheets and the few wooden bookshelves he was allowed to have. Everything else was either metal or stone; perfectly designed to keep his flames contained.

On those nights, he slept near the window. Unfortunately for him, the window was always kept open. The King had never thought to place shutters over the wide hole, so his room was as frigid as an ice box all day, every day. Nights of the new moon were especially hard to endure, as Gelum at night dropped to dangerously low temperatures. If he was a regular human, he'd be dead by the time the sun rose over the horizon. So in a sense, he was lucky to even be alive at this point. That somehow didn't comfort him when he had to constantly keep his wild flames under control by sitting--naked--on the cold stone floor while the freezing wind blew against his bare body. 

His night started off the same as last month; shivering, bathed in darkness, and teeth loudly clacking together in the silence of his room. The moon was invisible to his eyes as his breath fogged out before him, staring out at the darkened sky to distract him from the cold. His bitten fingernails dug into his arms, teeth clenched as the fire inside of him simultaneously warmed him and tried to sputter out. It was a painful process to go through. It was always so _cold_ at night, snow continuing to fall from above; landing on his arms while he hopelessly tried to keep warm. Ice seeped through his skin, settling deep into his bones and further dampening the fire buried in his chest. While he did survive nights near the open window, it was still difficult for his body to adjust. It was pure torture for him, walking the line between life and death as his fire tried to keep him from succumbing to the winter.

His flame was magic, but it could only do so much when faced with so much _ice_; the complete opposite of his element. There wasn't much he could do, however, as the everlasting ice cold winter was a staple of the Kingdom of Gelum. The extreme weather was the main reason as to why so few people inhabited the kingdom itself. The cold was also why he was sent here as a child instead of being burned at the stake for witchcraft--that and no matter what type of flame, he couldn't be burned. He had little choice in the matter, as did his other five brothers who shared the same fate; sent off in opposite directions to keep their powers under control by the Church of Divine Right. A ball of pain coiled tightly in his chest as he thought of his family. The last time they'd been together was almost ten years ago.

“I...I won..wonder if...they...if they're doing...o..okay..” He whispered out through chattering teeth, wincing when a particularly harsh gust of wind blew across his back. It was a foolish thought to have. Of course his brothers weren't _okay_, but he still had to hope they were better off than he was. The magic ink that linked them together only served to represent their heartbeats. The tattoo--a ring of runes that symbolized his brothers' gifts--decorating his left ankle couldn’t tell him if his brothers were physically hurt. In order to communicate with them and connect their minds, he needed to see Luhan’s spellbook. His gift had been one of psychic abilities, and he was a master at communication between long distances. ‘_If only I had his book...I could check up on my brothers. Maybe even help them escape!_’ He thought, shivering violently when a harsh breeze blew against his face. He didn’t know if his brothers were being tortured or worse, although he didn’t know which he’d honestly prefer. '_Please...if there is a God out there...keep my family alive…_’ He felt tears gather at the corner of his eyes, biting down hard on his bottom lip to keep his sobs at bay. He wasn't religious--they never did believe in God like the rest of the kingdoms--but he prayed to a higher being regardless. It was all he could do at the moment. It was all he counted on to continue living, if not for his own sake, for the sake of his brothers who were still alive and breathing.

A wicked breeze rolled over his shoulders, sending a flurry of snow over his bare arm. He swallowed back a whimper when his inner flame once again spluttered out; his lungs seizing for air for a few terrifying seconds before his fire weakly roared back to life. He felt a tear drip down the curve of his cheek, ducking his head to fit in between his knees as he forced himself to stay up just a _little_ bit longer. He could stay in his dreamscape longer--stay with _him_ longer--if he managed to be dead tired when he eventually succumbed to sleep. After all, those dreams he had with the boy were his favorite; were the dreams that could truly, _truly_ make him happy when he was surrounded by the same stone walls and cold silence every day.

And so he stayed awake. He stayed awake against the biting wind, awake against the painful weight on his chest, awake against the tears that threatened to spill down his numb face until the next time he blinked, he was already asleep. 

**~~~~**

_The dreams all started out differently. He had experienced about twelve--thirteen if he counted the current one--and every time, he was taken to a different place._

_This time, the boy was standing on the edge of a cliff; his broad back turned towards Chanyeol as he stared out across the rocky seas. He could see the boy’s armor and cape set to the side, an axe the size of Chanyeol sitting next to it. The boy was dressed in only loose-fitting brown trousers, muscles flexing enticingly under his skin as he rolled his shoulders. The cry of seagulls rang out as he turned his gaze up to the heavens, puffy white clouds leisurely floating across the clear blue sky. A gentle breeze ruffled his hair as the smell of salt and iron flooded his nose. He smiled slightly, leaning his head on a nearby tree as he turned his attention back to the silent boy. He kept staring out past the cliff, looking at what he wasn't sure, but he didn't want to interrupt him. 'He knows I'm here. If he needed me, he'd just come up to me.' He absently scratched at his collarbone as his eyes wandered over the bare edge of the cliff._

_'I wonder where we are now. This cliff looks unfamiliar.' He shifted off the tree, planning to explore the cliff when he glanced down. He jolted when he realized he was still naked, walking quickly to the boy’s armor to pick up his cape as he fought down a blush. It wasn’t the first time they’d seen each other naked--not to mention, they were the only two there--but Chanyeol was still shy around the boy. ‘No, not a boy anymore.’ He gazed down at the cape hiding his bare body from view, realizing that it stopped at his knees instead of pooling near his feet. He looked back up to observe the boy--man again, and noticed how much taller he'd grown. Chanyeol was still definitely a head taller than him, but it still came as a shock. It was an odd transition compared to the last time they saw one another, but he could tell that he was seeing a change that he had previously been ignorant to. He felt ashamed of himself for taking so long to notice, but that feeling of shame was washed away by a random burst of amusement. He jerked when a warmly tanned hand gripped his wrist, pulling him towards the edge of the cliff._

_He glanced up, unsurprised to see nothing but a blurry, unfocused canvas instead of a face. The dreams never allowed them to look at their faces, only allowing communication through memories and feelings. It was easy enough broadcasting memories or emotions, but it always left Chanyeol feeling extremely vulnerable exposing his past to someone he’s never spoken to or seen before. ‘Especially since even if I wanted to meet him, I probably never will. The King allows no one to visit me, not that many people want to in the first place.’ He pushed back the sadness that wanted to overtake him and instead focused on the new scars littering the man’s arm. They were still pink and healing, thin, black stitches holding the gashes stretching over his forearm together. They mainly centered around the man's forearm, as long as his thumbnail and deep enough to need thorough medical attention. He gently ran his fingers over them as they sat down, sending a questioning feeling through their bond. He was rewarded with a small flashback._

**_He was surrounded by raging battles. Bloodied, torn flags blew in the wind as the sound of clanging swords and war cries rang out. The heavy stench of blood and decaying flesh scented the frenzied air and he paused a moment to deeply breathe the smell in. A smirk unknowingly tugged at his scarred lip, turning to dodge a sloppy sword swing with the ease of a trained warrior. He grunted as he twisted his body, armor groaning in protest from the quick move as he swung his axe with all of his body weight behind it. He could hear the other end of his axe catch on the soldier sneaking up on him and he grinned when the man fell down with a shout of pain._** _‘That’s what you get you bloody fucking coward.’_ **_He thought viciously. The bloody iron blade cut through the soldier in front of him with a sickening squelch, shards of his broken helmet digging into his face while blood spurted from his wounds. His eyes bugged out of his skull, bits of flesh and jagged pieces of metal falling from his disfigured face. He dislodged his axe with another grunt, flicking away as much blood as he could from it as specks of crimson fluid splattered across his cheeks and mouth. He absently licked the blood away, a low growl rumbling in his chest as the coppery taste settled on his tongue. He felt his eyes flash as his mouth quirked up into a cruel smirk. He instinctively put up his left hand to block the oncoming blow from another soldier. He ignored the faint ‘thump’ of the first soldier’s dead body, a dull pain emanating from his forearm as something warm and sticky dripped down his arm. He looked over, an almost disinterested look on his face as his eyes zeroed in on the mace embedded deeply in his skin._** _‘Shit. I forgot I took my gauntlets off when we settled down last night.’_ **_He sighed as he shook off the weapon, headbutting the second soldier hard enough for his nose to break with a loud ‘crack’. The soldier wailed out in pain, hands coming up to cradle his broken nose as he landed on his back. He ignored the man's pathetic screams as he looked over him, raising his foot and slowly applying pressure to the man's throat. The soldier struggled, fingernails scraping against the bandages wrapped around his ankle. He flexed his bare foot, digging his toes deeper into the man's neck as his eyes trailed over the soldier's outfit. His cape and breastplate held the same insignia, and he furrowed his brows in confusion as the man continued writhing beneath him._** _‘Huh. He's a soldier of Ars? Why are they so close to the coasts of Aquariete?’_ **_He filed the thought away, making a note to question ------- about it another day.  
“You fucking bastard. Did you really think you would get away with fucking with me? ” He growled out, lips curling up in satisfaction as the soldier slowly suffocated from the lack of air going through his windpipe. He watched as the life from the soldier’s eyes left him, mouth falling slack and struggling limbs flopping uselessly to the ground as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He snapped his attention away from the dead soldier when a familiar voice called out to him.  
“General --------!”_**

_Chanyeol jolted when he came back to the present, eyes tracking the scars with a newfound reverence-slash-worry. ‘He shook off a blow from a mace the size of my fist like it was nothing? I barely felt any pain from that memory...is he really that strong?’ He wondered, cheeks getting a tad bit warmer as the man linked their fingers together._

_Death was something he'd dealt with more than once in his past, so it never really fazed him to see it happen in the man's memory. (Though he couldn't deny seeing the bloodshed and war from the man's eyes didn't unsettle him. Not so much that the man was nonchalantly murdering people, but the fact that his methods were too...bloody. Chanyeol had never particularly liked the messiness when it came to swords and blunt weapons.) The villagers had called him a monster; a wretched demon born of dark magic and evil because of the power he possessed. It wasn't his fault he couldn't control the fire inside him--he was only four when his magic began manifesting. Magic wasn't inherently evil, and neither was it good either. Magic was nothing but a tool used by either malicious or benevolent users. And if Chanyeol had been nurtured by a good witch, if he had grown up with his brothers his entire life, he may have been a good magic user. But they--the Church of Divine Right, his village, the King and knights of Gelum--had burned away any trace of good inside of him._

_'They believed me a monster, so I gave them a monster.’ When first getting to the tower, he ignited anything he could with his flames; clothing, armor, food, people. Anything he could touch was instantly burned to ashes, and his fiery temper raged for more than four years before he mellowed out. He was seven when he was sent to the tower, and when he turned eleven he suddenly felt...numb. Exhausted past the point of exhaustion. He never painted his actions out to be acceptable, nor did he try to justify his anger when he was questioned. He simply lacked the energy to be angry anymore. The wild flames that flowed through his veins dispersed, and subsequently, he paid the price for his previous reign of terror once the King grew past his fear of Chanyeol. 'At least they never beat me. Merely deprived me of a bed and books for a year. Oh, and the one bucket of water and stale bread they gave me each month was a lovely touch as well.’ He snorted dryly, blinking when the man next to him probed his thoughts. Had he really spaced out for that long? He shook his head in response, sending back his feelings from witnessing the memory._

_More amusement filtered over their connection, now with a hint of pride and smugness. Chanyeol huffed a little, squeezing the fingers in his hand as he turned his gaze towards the gentle waves lapping at the beach below. ‘He’s always so proud of himself whenever I compliment his strength. Is it an alpha male thing, or just a him thing?’ He thought teasingly in his mind, knowing that the man couldn’t exactly hear his thoughts. He yelped when his ear was tugged, giggling when a playful growl met his ears. ‘He may not read my thoughts, but he sure knows what they mean.’ He laughed when he was suddenly tackled to the ground, rough palms holding his wrists together as the man straddled his waist. The cape slipped open to reveal his pale skin, his body bared open to the coastal air. He shivered as a stray breeze blew against his naked chest, nipples peaking and his manhood twitching to life. He flushed under the strong feelings of lust being sent his way, breathing out a sigh when the man shifted on his lap. He distinctly felt like the man was smirking at him, the quick flare of smugness confirming his guess only a moment later._

_He closed his eyes and he waited. The man always liked to wrestle with him, and Chanyeol often ended up being pinned. Despite how much he wished it, he wasn't as strong or healthy as the man. He did get in some daily exercise--running around his circular room and doing a few push ups--but overall, he was in need of more than just bread and water. He was lucky enough to have the bed, books and sheets he had, but he'd trade them all in a heartbeat for an actual meal instead of scraps. The highlight of his day was getting half of an orange from the cook. The old woman had a soft spot for him, and often snuck him small fruits or vegetables to brighten his time there. It was a sweet gesture, particularly because it brought some variety to his diet. He was glad at least one person was looking out for him, even if it was in a small way. He was lucky enough to be treated like an actual guest instead of thrown into the dungeon like most prisoners. 'If you count being half starved to death lucky. I’m so pale and fragile….like a porcelain doll.’ He thought with a slight frown._

_The man had even mentioned it while carrying him two months ago, and Chanyeol sent back a memory in return. To say that the man was angry was an understatement. He was radiating fury the whole time they spent together, conjuring up as much food as he could in their dreamscape. It was a sweet gesture, especially since Chanyeol soon learned that whatever he ate in the dreamscape his body took with him into the real world. Not physically, as in he could bring food into the real world, but in the sense that his body remembered the food he ate. He’d been gaining weight ever so slightly since._

_‘He takes care of me so much. I wish I could give him half of what he gives me.’ He thought with a rueful smile. His breath hitched when the man shifted to slip in between his legs, his hands moving to cup his cheeks. ‘I know he can’t see my face..but it almost feels like he can. He always holds me so carefully...touches me like I’m something to be treasured.’ He shivered when a pair of lips pressed against his forehead. He wished he could see the man’s face--see how plush the lips on his face felt. He projected his want over their connection, gasping softly when the man sent the same feeling back--only this time, he included a visual._

** _He watched as his boy--his sweet, precious little boy--writhed beneath him. He purposely rocked his hips back and forth slowly, holding his boy down so all he could do was take it. He smirked when he whined for more, speeding up his movements ever so slightly, if only to tease him more. He wanted his boy to feel him move, to feel how deep inside he was. He squeezed the thighs in his hands before spreading them apart, changing the angle by bending his boy in half. He grunted at the shift, licking his lips when another breathless moan exited his open mouth. He could only see his mouth, or at least what he thought his mouth looked like. He didn’t bother imagining any other features. It was pointless to do so. He wanted his boy and his boy only._ **

_Chanyeol clawed at the man’s back, tilting his head to the side and sending all of his lust and want over the bond. He was rewarded with a low growl, teeth digging into the side of his neck as the man ground his clothed cock against his freed one. ‘Please, please. please.’ he thought mindlessly, whimpering when the man sucked a bruise on the skin of his throat.   
“Please.” He begged, even if he couldn’t hear his voice. He could feel his body start to fade and knew that his mind was beginning to wake up. ‘Please, before I go…’ The man seemed to understand his desperation because in a split second he was on his knees and stretched out; cape thrown some distance away and elbows resting on the rocky cliff. The man wasted no time, entering him in one smooth thrust. They didn’t go slow like they usually did, the man fucking him hard enough for his knees to scratch against the stone. He didn’t mind the sting his rough thrusts brought; he enjoyed pain when mixed with pleasure as it coursed through his body. He arched his back, nails digging into the cliff while letting out small moans. The man gripped his hips tightly, plastering himself to Chanyeol’s back and strengthening the intensity of his stroke._

_He hiccuped, squeezing his eyes shut while spreading his thighs. He could feel how close he was to waking up and wanted the man to hurry. He wanted--no, needed clear evidence of their time spent together. It helped ground him when he woke up, alone, cold and naked sitting near his open window. The scratches on his knees, the ache in his lower back, marks bruising his skin purple, and hoarseness from screaming out in pleasure all confirmed who he was with and who he belonged to. ‘Please, please faster, harder, fast-’ He let out a loud scream when the man nailed his prostate so hard that Chanyeol saw stars behind his closed eyelids. He came all over the ground beneath him, tiredly flopping over as the man crawled up his torso. He closed his eyes for the final time, leaving his mouth open as the man finished above him. The last thing he felt was sticky warmth and a soft press of lips to his forehead before he blacked out._

**~~~~**

Chanyeol didn’t open his eyes when waking up, instead reveling in the feelings racking through his body. His neck and hips ached as well as his lower back. His face felt sticky with cum and tears, and his throat burned every time he swallowed. ‘_I should probably clean myself up before they bring me my breakfast._’ He thought, but he still let himself linger by the window for a few more moments before opening his eyes.

Immediately sunlight blinded him, and he hissed out a curse while blinking the spots out of his eyes. He sluggishly crawled over to his bath bucket, grabbing the towel hanging out of it and wringing it out some before wiping his face. He grimaced when the water touched his face, goosebumps rising across his bare skin. He stuck his finger in the ice cold water and heated it up a bit, sighing in delight when he washed his face with the newly dipped towel. ‘_Nice and warm_.’ He ignored the small twinge of pain that traveled to his chest as he tossed the towel back into the bucket. He stood up slowly, groaning when the joints in his body cracked. He looked down, his lips curling up into a smile when catching sight of the bruises decorating his hips. They were a stark contrast over his skin and sent pleasant tingles through his body when he ran his fingertips over them. ‘_Pretty_.’ He sighed, wishing he could see the bruise he could feel covering a portion of his neck.

“I’ll just tie my handkerchief over my neck today. S’not like anyone will notice.” He mumbled, the mark on his neck throbbing as he moved to slip on his clothes. As soon as he was done he plopped onto his bed, lounging back with his arms crossed behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling of his room, eyes tracing the scorch marks he left there a few years back. He prepared himself for yet another day of boredom, counting off the days until he would next meet his dream man.

** _X778_ **

_Chanyeol curled his fingers into the ground beneath him, enjoying the dirt and grass sticking under his nails as he kicked his feet in the river. The sun shone down on his bare skin warmly, a gentle breeze ruffling his hair and swaying the leaves on the trees in front of him. He let his eyes wander around the thick forest located on the other side of the river, smiling when he could hear all sorts of creatures stir from within._

_Experiencing nature and going outside was only possible in their dreamscape, so he made sure whenever he did enter, it was never in the same location as before. The man had been all over the world, it seemed, and managed to use his memories as a roadmap for what their dreamscape looked like. In the beginning, they’d started out in a rocky, rough looking area surrounded by nothing but tall and menacing looking trees. The man later explained to him--using the exact same memory--that he grew up with a band of mountain thieves for most of his life, leaving when he was eleven and joining a mercenary group soon after. He was interested in the places the man had seen and the people he’d met. The desire to see the world through the man’s memories was born, and they’d never stop exploring since._

_Chanyeol had shared a few of his memories of his own as well, even if there weren’t very many. If he counted, there were about three locations he’d been to in his entire eighteen year existence. The first was a garden his brother Yixing had tended to when they were still living with their caretaker--although caretaker was a bit of an overstatement as the senile witch only provided them with floors to sleep on and stale bread to eat. The second was the home he grew up in as a child, though it was bittersweet whenever they did revisit the childhood memories he had. It wasn’t always bad because he had all of his brothers with him, but they often had to fight off the witch whenever she succumbed to her visions and mistook them for demons, or whatever her delusions dictated them to be. The third...the third was his current lodgings and prison; his room at the top of Gelum’s highest stone tower._

_They never visited the last two often--in fact, they’d only been to the last two locations once. The only location they frequented was Yixing’s garden, which Chanyeol had no problem with. Yixing’s garden--at least in his memories--had been a wonderful sight to see. It was filled to the brim with wildflowers, sweet fruits, vegetables, and vines that seemed to have a mind of their own. Not only did it remind him of better times, but the garden had always given him hope. Even if the garden was most likely dead by then, the mere presence of it in Chanyeol’s mind gave him hope that he’d see his brothers again. The man had given him hope as well. He'd shown his willingness in finding his family when--the man had insisted when, and he couldn’t bring himself to disagree when faced with his aggressive determination--they found each other._

_Tears welled up in his eyes at the thought of seeing his brothers again. Of seeing Luhan’s face, Yifan’s dorky smile, of hearing Jongin and Yixing’s laugh or feeling the calm Junmyeon always brought him. He missed his brothers, missed their smell, their sound, their touch--he missed everything about them. A few tears fell down his cheeks the more he remembered the happy times he had with his family. ‘ I’m such a crybaby.’ He sniffled, rubbing his eyes with a slightly dirty fist. He didn’t want to cry--not when he knew it’d only be a matter of time until the man showed up. It wasn’t entirely unusual for Chanyeol to be first. He knew they most likely lived in different timezones, and with the man running with a band of mercenaries, he knew they were always on the move. ‘I wonder...what banner does he run under? I’ve never gotten a clear picture from his memories, and we’ve never been able to communicate names very well.’ He sniffed again, brushing away a stray tear as he kicked his feet in the water._

_The dreamscape was a place where they could conjure up anything they desired and thought hard enough about. But there were certain things the dreamscape wouldn’t allow; direct communication and seeing faces were number one on that list. The only thing he wasn’t allowed to hear were names of people, so there was a small positive. He couldn't hear names of people, but he could hear names of places, plants, foods, etc. ‘I don’t know why we can’t talk or see each other, but it gets really frustrating when you’re trying to find your soulmate.’ He blushed a little at the term, but what else could he use to describe the man? Soulmate seemed like the perfect word to use to describe someone who connected with him on a deeper level; someone who saw everything Chanyeol had to offer--good and bad--and still wanted him anyway. He let out a tired sigh. ‘I’m thinking too much again. I need to stop dwelling on things that won’t change, and focus on-’ He was interrupted by warm hands gripping his shoulders, the back of his head brushing up against a hard stomach._

_He tilted his head back, an automatic smile stretching his lips wide when an invisible pair of lips pressed against his forehead.   
"And focus on what’s right in front of me," He finished quietly out loud, turning his cheek and giving a quick kiss to the exposed stomach in front of him. He received a slight apology and warm affection in return. He waved off the apology with a shake of his head, pulling down the man to sit next to him before wrapping him up in his long, lanky arms. He held the man close to him, burying his face into his black hair as the man chuckled._

** _X779_ **

_He held back a wince as he walked quietly through the tall grass blocking his way. He could feel his face and stomach throb in pain, bringing a hand to the purpling bruise as he came upon the man. ‘He’s going to be mad.’ He thought, trying to hide his pain and nervousness as the man turned around. The warm feelings from before were immediately cut off, confusion then rage washing over him as the man wasted no time in checking over his wounds. He tried to wave away his concerns, but only received a sharp spike of indignation in return. He sighed lowly, but let the man do whatever he wanted, whining out in pain when his fingers pressed into his shoulder. The man immediately pulled back, worry flitting through their connection as he ran his hands over Chanyeol’s face. He flinched when one of his fingers brushed over the swollen part of his jaw. The man froze, his burning hot anger freezing over and sending a chill down Chanyeol’s spine. His mouth fell open as an overwhelming amount of protective rage and worry filtered through his mind. There was an unspoken demand hidden in the sudden wave of emotion, and Chanyeol reluctantly closed his eyes and opened his most recent memory._

** _“You disgusting demon!” The man spat--someone named Jinyoo going by the conversation that he heard outside his door only a few minutes prior--sending another harsh kick to his stomach. He let out a whimpering cough, blinking the tears out of his eyes as he stared at his brown leather boots. He wasn’t sure how he managed to get into his room, but he could see the two guards that stood outside his room, lying dead just outside the door. _ **

**_“You killed her-- you killed my wife!” Jinyoo growled, and even from his spot on the floor, he could smell the faint scent of booze waft from his breath. His enraged cry sent a sharp bolt of pain through his chest. He didn’t know if he actually murdered his wife or not, but he couldn’t help feeling sorry for Jinyoo anyway. He struggled to breathe as Jinyoo descended a barrage of punches on his body, most landing near his chest and stomach. One caught him on his cheek, and the sudden pain made him automatically raise his temperature. Jinyoo recoiled back with a shout, cradling his hand to his chest as the sound of sizzling flesh mingled with his labored breathing. He felt pity for Jinyoo, but he also knew that if he let him continue, he’d fall unconscious. He didn’t want to be in such a vulnerable state when Jinyoo was not only intoxicated, but hyped up on anger and loss_**. '_That and I’m not sure what the man will do if he sees my body. He’s the type to drop anything and come to my aid if he ever feels like I’m in trouble or hurt. And unfortunately, I can’t magic myself better when I enter the dreamscape_'. **_He winced when Jinyoo grabbed him by his hair, pulling his face near his. He could see how red Jinyoo’s eyes were, dried tear tracks running down his cheeks as his bottom lip trembled._**

** _“I’ll make you pay...make you regret taking my sweet Soona from me.” He promised quietly, calm enough to scare Chanyeol a little. Jinyoo reached behind his back, but before he could reach for whatever he hid back there, shouting interrupted him. Jinyoo cursed lowly and turned to the door, but that was all Chanyeol needed. He took his chance and freed himself from his grasp. He pushed Jinyoo away from him with all his might, ignoring the stinging pain his wounds caused him as Jinyoo let him go. Chanyeol muttered a quick spell under his breath and shot a small fireball towards the end of Jinyoo’s trousers. The cloth lit up with a red-orange flame, traveling up his leg with a supernatural speed as his entire body began to burn. Chanyeol grinned a little to himself as his body slumped against the end of his bed. His eyes closed as his mind faded into unconsciousness, the sound of Jinyoo’s screams lulling him to sleep._ **

_Chanyeol opened his eyes carefully, focusing on the man’s body language as the memory simmered between them. The air was thick with anger, the man’s body filled with nothing but tension as his hands gently cupped Chanyeol’s face. He couldn’t exactly read the man besides the obvious rage, their connection eerily silent as the man kept still. He hesitantly curled one of his hands around the one on his cheek, practically engulfing the man’s hand with his own. He gently prodded at him, sending a questioning feeling over their bond. The man seemed to snap out of his silence, a flurry of emotion erupting over the bond as the man bodily threw Chanyeol over his shoulder. He yelped, fingers scrambling to get a firm grip on the man’s back as he marched off towards the lone tree in the middle of the field. Chanyeol sent more probing feelings, but his ass was slapped firmly in response. He soon got the hint after that, limply hanging from the man’s shoulder as he continued his walk._

_They arrived only a minute or so later, the man setting Chanyeol down first before plopping down after. He manhandled Chanyeol into his lap before he could blink, arranging his long limbs to rest more comfortably in his lap. Chanyeol weezed when the bruise on his stomach flared up in pain, but the man was already going as slowly and as carefully as he could. He waved off the apology he felt, leaning against the man’s temple as his fingers tangled in Chanyeol’s hair. His other hand rested over his stomach, lightly running his fingertips over the discolored skin. He could easily feel all the outrage and thirst for vengeance the man felt before, his chest warming significantly when he did. He felt...happy that the man had gotten so upset. It only reaffirmed their feelings for one another in his eyes. He didn’t mind the slight pain his bruises brought him one bit, not when they made the man--his soulmate so protective over him._

** _X780_ **

_Chanyeol threw his head back with a small whimper, mouth falling open when fingers pressed harshly into his hips. He was wrenched repeatedly back against the man, his cock spearing him open roughly. His toes curled as teeth dug into his shoulder, loud grunts meeting his ears as the table below him creaked in protest. He clutched the edge of the wooden table in a white-knuckled grip, arching his back when a particularly hard thrust rubbed over his prostate. He let out a high whine of protest when the man pulled completely out of him, but his whine quickly turned into a loud moan when the man flipped him over and entered back into him in one smooth thrust. Chanyeol wrapped his legs and arms around the strong, muscled body pressed close to him, sliding his fingers through the thick hair covering the man’s head. He could feel the mix of anger, grief and guilt swirling within the man, and curled himself tighter around him as he continued his aggressive barrage of thrusts._

_Whenever the man had experienced intense emotion, Chanyeol soon figured out, he never could fully express himself through words. The barrier the dreamscape forced between them had made communicating both easier and harder. Easier because the man had become a pro at pulling up memories and sending affection over the bond they had. Harder because of instances like right now--the man being too worked up to properly explain his feelings, even through memories and the bond they shared. So Chanyeol did the only thing he thought would work; let the man work out his anger on him rather than stewing in his own space. The man had been reluctant at first, worried that his emotions would take over and he’d seriously hurt Chanyeol. But Chanyeol insisted that this way--fucking the anger out--was better than getting too wrapped in his mind and torturing himself. So it became sort of a thing between them. Whenever the man had an argument with his commander or had witnessed something that sent his anger spiraling out of control, he would come to Chanyeol and take out his frustrations._

_Chanyeol didn’t know what had set him off, but he was more than willing to be used by the man. As soon as the man appeared in front of him, he’d turned Chanyeol around and roughly held him down against the table he conjured as he ate Chanyeol out. Afterwards, he slipped in and without giving Chanyeol time to adjust, and began fucking into him at a fast pace. Chanyeol didn’t know how long they’d been fucking, but he could tell the man was getting close to finishing. His breathing was getting faster, and his thrusts were more erratic. Chanyeol tightened up his insides, letting out a small scream when the man sunk his teeth into his throat. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he came, his release splattering on both of their chests. The man came soon after, his teeth still attached to Chanyeol as his hips jerked up._

_They laid there for a few moments, gathering their bearings as the high wore down. Chanyeol let out a small whimper when the man shifted him off the table, keeping his arms and legs wrapped tightly around him as he sat down on a nearby blanket. The man ran his hands over Chanyeol’s body, gently probing at his thoughts to make sure he was okay. His lower back was sore and his neck and hips were throbbing in slight pain, but the marks on his body didn’t bother him. He sent reassurance through the bond, running his fingers through his hair as the man shuddered under him. He patiently waited for him to gather his thoughts now that his head was clear, and he was rewarded a few moments later with a quick vision._

**_He watched as ----- was taken into the infirmary, left arm nothing but a bloody stump of flesh. His skin was deathly pale, face scrunched up in pain as sweat made his blonde hair stick to his forehead. Small whimpers passed through his thinly pressed lips and he watched -----’s face disappear behind the dingy white tent. He dug his teeth into his bottom lip so hard he felt blood pool into his mouth. He looked up to the sky, eyes catching their fluttering black banner hanging above the medical tent. It felt like the snarling grey dog head was mocking him_**. ‘_I should’ve been there to watch him. I fucking knew sending him out to the front wasn’t a good idea. He’s still new--he isn’t used to the battlefield yet_.’ **_He tensed when a hand landed on his shoulder. He turned his head to the side and was met with ice blue irises. He could already see the lecture beginning to form on -------'s face, but he roughly knocked his hand away before he could start.  
“Don’t.” He growled out, turning away from the look he received and walking towards his tent._**

_Another memory surfaced before Chanyeol could comment on the first one._

** _He watched as ----- finished bandaging ----- up, gripping his forearms when the younger man shifted in his sleep. ----- smiled slightly, running a hand through his damp hair before turning towards him and -------. His expression was carefully blank, his eyes glancing back and forth between him and their leader for a beat before he opened his mouth.  
“Our little soldier here will be fine.” The relief he felt nearly made him collapse, but he held his position against the wooden pike. There was more that the doctor had to tell them. ------- clearly had the same idea, motioning for ----- to continue.  
“He lost a lot of blood, but thanks to --------, we managed to get his blood levels stable enough. He lost about eighty percent of his arm, everything but his left bicep surviving the damage.” He nodded his head towards a bedridden ----- with a small frown.  
“Will he be able to use his left side again?” He asked, ignoring the gravel in his voice as ----- turned towards him.  
“He’ll most likely lose feeling in the remaining nerves in his left shoulder. The only possible way for him to regain the use of his arm would be a prosthetic of some kind.” He grit his teeth, looking at ------- with hard eyes. He received a cool look in return._ **

** _"The prosthetic will have to wait. We're in the middle of Campe territory and the nearest blacksmith is more than a day's ride out. The winds are too dangerous for us to travel safely. We'll have to wait." He said with such finality in his voice that it sent another pulse of rage through him. He didn't bother to respond, turning back to look at -----'s pale face._ **

_Chanyeol gasped when he felt tears drip onto his skin, mindless words tumbling from his lips as he squeezed even closer to the man. His shoulders shook as he gripped Chanyeol hard, guilt and anger pouring over their connection; almost like an overflowing river. Chanyeol felt his chest ache with the effort not to cry. It wasn’t about him now, it was about the man crying silently in his arms--his soulmate hurting because of something he couldn’t control. He received a fierce denial of his last thought from the man, the guilt getting heavier as memories of him and the injured boy flew threw his mind. Chanyeol bit down hard on his tongue to keep his emotions in check. Right now wasn’t the time to debate whose fault it was that the young man lost his arm. Right now, it was his job to make sure his soulmate expressed himself and tried to work on moving past his guilt._

_So, he mumbled soothing words he knew the man couldn’t hear, but coupled them with warmth, affection and love as they rocked back and forth._


	2. at first sight, I could recognize you (as if we were calling for each other)

** _X781--sometime during late summer_ **

Chanyeol was idly counting the number of chimneys he could see from his window when a loud bang sounded from his door. Before he could get up, the wooden door opened and in stepped someone who filled Chanyeol with both surprise and an overwhelming amount of hate. There, King Lee Seokju stood--the King of Gelum and Chanyeol’s captor.

“My lord?” He kept his voice as low as a whisper, flicking his eyes down when the King’s guard followed him into his room. ‘_What in the world is going on?_’ He could feel his flames lick under his skin, no doubt reacting to the increase of the negative feelings currently building inside his chest. He fought to keep his fire under control, biting the inside of his cheek when he saw a flicker of an orange flame from the corner of his eye. ‘_Behave._’ 

“Chanyeol.” The King’s raspy voice sent shivers down his spine, the hate nearly boiling over as he tried to keep his expression neutral. The King sounded more like a dying old man than the imposing figure he met fourteen years ago. The King from his memory had a large red beard, a thick beer belly and towered over Chanyeol like a giant. He glanced up quickly, the sight meeting his eyes only adding to the confusion clouding his mind. The spite coiled deep in his chest lessened some, though, satisfaction growing in its place as he took in the King’s appearance. The King seemed to have shrunk in size, face gaunt and eyes sunken into his skull. His previously red beard was now pure white, and his skin had a sickly shine to it. ‘_He looks...empty; like he’s dying from the inside out._’

“I am in need of your...powers to protect my kingdom. Starting today, you will be trained as a knight of Gelum.” He could tell the news wasn’t only a shock to him, as a shout of protest met the King’s claim. ‘_Has the King gone mad? He would dare request my help when he’s done nothing but keep me locked up inside this room?_’ He almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity, but held back any and all sounds as he watched the guards reactions.  
“B..but sire! This...demon is too dangerous to use! What if-” The head guard began, but he stopped when the King simply shook his head.  
“The time for that is now over. Those filthy mercenaries have breached our borders and are setting up camp as we speak. Unfortunately for us, our kingdom is but a shell of what it used to be. While my knights are indeed a mighty force, there aren’t nearly as many of you to fight against those lowly barbarians.” The King sounded bitter and sorrowful as he spoke, milky brown eyes moving from his guard to Chanyeol. He fought back the bile that wanted to escape his throat, instead bowing his head.

“I thank you for your chance, my lord. I hope to be of service to you in whatever way I can.” His words felt like acid in his mouth. He absolutely despised the man in front of him. But seeing him so vulnerable...so easy to burn made something settle in his mind. He would bide his time, he would train with the knights like the King had asked. But he would also plan his escape. ‘_This is the perfect opportunity to flee from this place. It looks like the King has gone senile from old age, otherwise he’d know better than to employ me as one of the knights to protect this wretched kingdom._’ He thought with a silent smirk.

“Yes, this may be a good opportunity for you to prove your civility as well, Chanyeol. I may be so inclined to let you leave your confinement if you show how much of an asset you can be to my kingdom.” There was a greedy hint to the King’s tone, something neither Chanyeol or the guards missed. 

“Of course, my lord.” He whispered, keeping his head lowered as the King filed out of his room with his guard. He felt the two knights give him suspicious glares, but ignored their looks. As soon as they left, he raised his head and raises his hand. His fingers stretched out, a torrent of red-orange flames leaving blackened marks on the nearby stone wall. He felt his anger and hate bleed out as his magic discolored the rock, wincing when his chest suddenly spasmed in pain. He clutched his shirt, breathing through gritted teeth as he waited for the pain to subside. ‘_I will regain my strength. I hate having to go through this agony whenever I use my magic. It isn’t fair and I won’t stand for this any longer._’ He thought with a scowl, getting up from his perch near the window and flopping backwards onto his bed.

“I will regain my strength. And after I do that, I will escape and find him.” He whispered to himself, closing his eyes as exhaustion took over. Using his magic in such frigid weather weakened him, and he needed to sleep in order to refuel his body. ‘_I suspect they will be back to fetch me later on. I’ll just sleep until they come and get me. It’s better to be well rested than unprepared around the knights._’ He thought before he drifted off into a dreamless nap.

** _X781-sometime during early winter_ **

Chanyeol dodged the swing Joonsup sloppily tried to attack him with, twirling around and hitting his stomach with the end of the wooden practice sword. He went down with a loud grunt, face twitching in pain and chagrin as Chanyeol held the tip of the sword to his neck.  
“And you’re dead.” He muttered softly, snorting at the deadpanned look he got. He could feel the stares from the other knights burn into his back as he helped Joonsup stand. He ignored them after helping Joonsup stand, facing Jiseok, the head guard, and bowing to him.  
“Am I done for today, sir?” He asked, a hint of sly mirth in his tone as Joonsup muttered curses under his breath from beside him. Jiseok frowned but nodded stiffly.  
“Yes, you may return to the barracks and rest for the rest of the afternoon. But, the King wishes to speak to you before dinner, so I suggest you head down to the throne room before you retire.” His tone was more of an order than a simple “_suggestion_”, so Chanyeol gave him a respectful nod before doing as he said. 

He bit back a grin once the training room doors closed behind him. Jiseok had immediately started to berate Joonsup for his “_disgrace as a knight of Gelum_”. Chanyeol snickered as he walked, twirling his practice sword in hand. The wooden tip clacked against the smooth stone floor, the sound of his feet slapping against the ground a soothing background noise as he took his time in walking towards the throne room.  
“It’s been a little over three months since I’ve started training, yet I’m already better than most of the supposed “trained” knights here. I wonder what that says about Gelum as a whole?” He murmured to himself, feeling more than proud that his skill with a blade proved to be better than the head guard or the other knights had anticipated. His own prowess had surprised him at first, but the more he practiced, the more he realized that he could rely on his instincts to guide him through the motions. He knew that since his magic had been used so little in the time he’d been there, it had to find other ways to release its energy when it couldn’t do so in the form of his fire. ‘_Maybe it was a good thing they kept me contained for so long. I feel so much more...in tune with my magic now that they’re feeding me and building up my strength._’ He glanced down at his feet as two maids scurried by him, flinching when he heard them whispering about his appearance.

He didn’t know whether to feel embarrassed by their compliments or proud. Before, he used to be too thin and sickly looking for him to feel confident about his appearance. But now...now he had definition in his arms, and his stomach was the healthy amount of flat. He could run for longer periods of time, could definitely eat more, and had more control over his fire than he ever did in the past. It was...exhilarating to feel his fire flow through his body again; to not _feel_ the aching cold of the castle whenever he had training to endure. It was definitely a good thing, don’t get him wrong. Rediscovering himself had not only boosted his confidence but it made wrestling with his soulmate a lot more fun than it used to be. Now, they were equals when it came to strength, although he still ended up on the bottom because his soulmate had more experience with hand-to-hand combat. With his new body, however, came new challenges as well. Now, he felt too big in his body; his arms and legs seemed larger now that he started gaining more energy. While the power that he held in his hands gave him a rush, it also terrified him how easily he could misjudge his own strength. He didn't care so much for the servants and knights around him, but what if he hurt his soulmate? He couldn't stand to even _think_ of hurting someone so precious, but the fear never left him. 

His new fit body coupled with his growth in height spelled disaster for most people and things around him. He often knocked equipment over or bumped into knights while walking, even spilling food over his clothes while eating more than a few times. His slip-ups earned him the reputation of being clumsy and painted him as a goofy looking bumpkin from out in the country. He didn’t know who started the rumor of him being from the country, but he didn’t bother to correct it. As far as the knights and staff were concerned, he was an orphan boy Jinseok found while patrolling the borders one day.

He suspected the King purposefully fired the old kitchen staff and servants from before for the very reason of keeping his identity hidden. ‘_If the Church ever found out the King was using me, they would no doubt excommunicate him on the spot. And probably imprison me somewhere else. The way Archbishop Sungkeun made it seem, I was supposed to rot in confinement for the rest of my life._’ He grimaced remembering the man, startling when he nearly stabbed his bare toe with the tip of his practice sword. He stopped swinging the wooden stick immediately, sliding it into the sling on his back with a slight flush to his ears.

“Right. It’s better to keep that thing out of my hands when I’m not using it anyway.” He muttered, scratching his neck as he continued his trek to the throne room. He passed by another servant, but this time, he caught sight of a brand embedded on the side of their right ankle. ‘_So that old fool did replace them with slaves. I thought as much when I saw how skinny they were, but I’ve never really seen them with their skin out in the open like that._’ He thought, eyes flickering over the scared looking servant’s attire. They were dressed in nothing more than a loose pair of trousers and a thin undershirt. His gut sank when he saw a purpling bite mark on the side of his neck as the servant ran off in the opposite direction. ‘_He was...he was coming from the throne room..._’ He swallowed, disgust pooling in his stomach as he clenched his fist.

He knew the King wasn’t all there when it came to his wits, but to stoop as low as forcing himself onto another? It made Chanyeol’s fire simmer under his skin thinking about it. ‘_If he ever touches me...I’ll fucking burn his hand off._’ He thought with a snarl, shuddering when the ornate doors of the throne room came into view. He took in a deep breath and straightened his shoulders, plastering a blank look on his face as he pushed open the doors. He was surprised to see no one guarding the King, but as he thought back to the servant he’d seen before, it made sense. ‘_He sent them away so he could have some...privacy._’ He bit his lower lip to keep the scowl that wanted to form at bay. 

“My lord.” He greeted with a low bow, keeping his eyes locked on the King’s feet as he rose from his chair.  
“Chanyeol. I’m glad you’ve come to see me before dinner. I have much to discuss with you,” He said, voice floaty and paper thin. The sound grated against his raw nerves, but he swallowed down his irritation and nodded silently.  
“Come, have a seat.” The King moved slowly towards the large table near the window, body creaking loudly in protest as he sat himself down. He didn’t seem to notice how badly he looked, nor how weak his bones were as he waited patiently for Chanyeol to join him. It made him want to kill him then and there. ‘_He’s so weak...so fragile. It probably wouldn’t take long for me to burn him to ash._’ He though with a hidden smile as he followed the King’s request, sitting in the chair directly in front of him. He moved his gaze up higher, but still didn’t dare look him in the eyes. Over the past few months, the King’s looks only deteriorated even more; hair falling out, skin gaining a greyish tint and eyes growing an even paler brown. It was like the King was a walking corpse, and it made the horror of what the servant had gone through before more pronounced. 

“I know you’ve heard me discuss these damned mercenaries that have been skulking around my kingdom borders, have you not?” At Chanyeol’s nod, he continued.  
“Then you must know that I intend to use your newfound honed skills to defeat them, along with my knights, yes?” Again Chanyeol nodded, his stomach tightening in anxiety. ‘_I don’t...I don’t know why, but I don’t like where this is headed…_’  
“I want you to bring me the heads of every general in the Band of the Demon Hounds. Those barbaric cretins have caused nothing but trouble for the outer villages, and not only that, they’ve slaughtered the newest addition to my regrowing army last week!” The King suddenly exploded out of his chair, his voice taking on a frenzied tone as he shuffled back and forth across his stone floor. Chanyeol flinched and felt his flames rise to the surface on instinct. He quickly tamped down on them before the King could notice, warily watching as he continued to, proverbially, foam at the mouth.  
“They’ve been a thorn in my side ever since the Battle at Borealis. They murdered all but one of my squadrons of knights and sent the injured survivors to humiliate me in front of the Church and every kingdom in the land!” He spat, before suddenly rounding on Chanyeol. Caught by surprise, Chanyeol was forced to look into the pale, crazed looking eyes of the King.  
“But you...you’ll help me regain my honor! And not only that, you’ll help me burn those filthy dogs right to the ground! Tomorrow night is when the attack on their camp will happen, and I’ll get to see their ridiculous black banner crumble to dust!” The King ended his speech with a bout of giggling, looking even crazier than Chanyeol anticipated he was. But soon, his attention was captured by the last part of the King’s rant. ‘_Black banner?_’  
“My lord? What does this banner look like? I am simply...curious.” He tried to play off his curiosity as something innocent, but even if he didn’t, the King was too wrapped up in himself to notice.  
“Hm? Oh, the flag they raise? It’s quite a boring banner, nothing of note to really speak of. In a contest of intimidation, Gelum would no doubt be the winner. After all, wolves are better than some nameless dog breed.” Chanyeol’s heart stopped, dread pooling in his stomach as a memory surfaced from his brain. 

_He looked up to the sky, eyes catching their fluttering black banner hanging above the medical tent. It felt like the snarling grey dog head was mocking him._

Chanyeol felt his heart simultaneously soar and plummet; mixed emotions swirling through his chest as he struggled to contain the sudden energy buzzing under his skin. ‘_Black banner with a dog on it? It can’t...can it be...him? He said--he showed me he was a part of a mercenary group. And...and recently I saw them surrounded by thick trees tipped in snow, but...but it’s the beginning of winter! The Gelum Kingdom isn’t the only one with snow._’ His heart raced as he clutched his knees under the table, a smile threatening to break over his face before he froze. ‘_He wants...he wants me to kill..._’ The thought of hurting his soulmate made his stomach roll uncomfortably. An icy feeling gripped his heart, thoughts racing as the King continued to ramble to himself. 

‘_I can’t kill him. I can’t--I won’t kill him. The old fool can lock me up again; beat me, torture me, kill me, I don’t care. I refuse to hurt him or his comrades._’ He thought with a grim set to his jaw, squaring his shoulders as he took in a deep breath. He knew that he was jeopardizing his entire plan now--knew that he could probably think of a different way to save his soulmate--but he didn't have that kind of time. Jinseok was keeping too much of a careful eye on him for his liking, so he knew sneaking off before battle was a no go. And a new moon wouldn’t be until the end of the month, so he wouldn’t be able to warn his soulmate of the upcoming attack. ‘_I...I have to refuse. I know the King’s army has been slowly growing, even if he did lose more than a few last time. There are about five thousand men under the King’s command. It is a small number, but I have no idea how many men the Demon Hounds have. Without me there, the knights will definitely be at a disadvantage. I just hope it’s enough to keep them from winning._’ He curled his fingers around his knees, readying himself for the King’s rage as he spoke. 

“I’m sorry, my lord, but I cannot help you fight the Band of the Demon Hounds.” 

**~~~~**

As expected, the King didn’t take too kindly to his refusal. 

Chanyeol didn’t even have time to defend his decision, the King screaming at him in a blind rage before calling his guards to throw him back into his cell. His books, bed, sheets and clothes were taken from him. He was left with nothing but a sack full of straw to sleep on; like he was some kind of barn animal. ‘_I should’ve expected the King to behave extremely...but this? Naked and forced to sleep on a pile of straw?_’ He’d never been so..so humiliated in front of so many people. The King had forced him to strip in front of the knights, Jinseok holding him still as the King tossed each and every one of Chanyeol’s things into an open flame. His books, his bedsheets, his clothes--the very few items he possessed were just...gone. Burned to cinders by a maniacal king hellbent on regaining his “honor”. ‘_All of my stuff...just...gone...so easily._’ He sniffled, closing his eyes as the memory of the knights faces flashed through his mind. 

Some where confused and horrified by the cruel and unusual punishment the King was carrying out. Others were too busy oggoling Chanyeol’s body to pay attention to his clear sorrow, and the weight of their stares sent another wave of shame through his body. He almost felt like crying, but couldn’t bring himself too when a stray breeze from his open window reminded him of where he was. Crying would only create water, which would inevitably freeze to his cheeks. He would be able to melt it off no problem, but the humiliation of crying while curled up in a naked, shivering ball would hurt his pride too much. So he held back his tears, wrapping his arms around himself as he rose his body temperature as high as he could stand it. He felt warmer already, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep the warmth up while he slept. For his powers to work in such extreme cold, he needed to be awake and focused.

‘_So, I guess that means sleeping isn’t an option right now._’ He thought with a small sniffle, rubbing his eyes roughly when he felt moisture build. ‘_I’m such a fucking crybaby. I can’t be this weak now! Especially when I’m so close to meeting him...when he’s so close to me._’ He breathed out harshly, forcing his eyes to focus on the yellow-orange flames flickering along his skin. He might as well settle in, as he won’t be getting any sleep in the next few days. ‘_Please stay alive._’ He thought. He stayed up well into the night, stubbornly curled into the fetal position as he kept his fire going. He made flames dance across his skin in gentle spirals, the soothing flares of his fire unknowingly lulling him into a deep sleep. 

**~~~~**

He awoke to screams and the smell of ash and blood. He jerked upright, ignoring the pain his skin felt from the rough straw as he scrambled to look out the window. It was some time near midnight, as the moon was high in the sky; shining down like a beacon. The blood staining the snow looked like dark ink under the moonlight, pools of black gathering beneath the dead bodies littering the icy ground.  
“What…?” He whispered, slightly horrified by the gore and stench. His flames consumed everything his victims had to offer; bones, tissue, skin, _everything_ was burned to ashes. The sight of all of the decaying, blood splattered bodies lying about sickened him. The scent from so much gore carried itself all the way up to his spot in the tower, making his stomach roll in disgust. His horror quickly diminished as he attention snapped back to thoughts of his soulmate as more jeering shouts came from below. They were faint, but they were enough to let him ignore the slaughtered bodies scattered along the ground. 

‘_Only one thing can explain this bloodshed…_’ He thought, heartbeat accelerating as he looked down on the ground for any proof. His eyes darted over the dark snow, horrified screams and raucous shouts echoing from within the castle as he looked for a familiar banner. He couldn’t bring himself to care about the massacre happening so close to him, not when his soulmate was sure to be nearby.  
“C’mon...c’mon, where is that damned banner!” He muttered to himself, his hands shaking with nerves as his eyes sped quickly over the fallen ones below. 

He managed to spot a fluttering flag buried beneath a fallen warrior. He squinted, leaning slightly out of the window to try and get a better look. He couldn’t see the design on the front too clearly, but he knew the grey on black represented the Demon Hounds. While black was a common feature found on flags, there was no kingdom that had a mix of grey and black on it. ‘_It must be him. That means...that means he’s here!_’ He couldn’t stop the huge smile overtaking his features even if he wanted to. His body was thrumming with energy, no longer feeling the cold as his flames reacted to his emotional state. 

“He’s here. He’s here. He’s _here_.” He couldn’t stop repeating, leaning away from the window as smoke curled towards the shining crescent moon. He felt near mad with excitement, his grin splitting his face so wide it hurt. He couldn’t believe it! His soulmate--the man from his dreams was here. ‘_I want to find him._’ He thought, before immediately shooting the idea down. He was overjoyed, yes, but he wasn’t an idiot. If he walked around without a plan, he’d most likely get attacked by the Demon Hounds. He didn’t want to start his meeting off on the wrong foot after all, and the last thing he wanted to do was murder one of the man’s comrades before they officially met. ‘_That wouldn’t go over well._’ He thought with a wince, fiddling with his fingers as the sound of screaming stopped. 

He could still hear voices shouting to one another, but it seemed like they were from the mercenaries rather than the knights. ‘_They sound way to cheerful to be the knights._’ He folded his legs up, resting his chin on his knees as he clasped his hands together over his calves.  
“That makes me wonder...where are the knights? Surely they would've been here to protect the castle...and I would recognize the fallen men out there if they were knights. Those were ordinary foot soldiers the King kept around as backup.” He mumbled thoughtfully, wiggling his toes against the sack he sat on. The uniform the dead men wore showed they were nothing but extras, so where could the knights have gone? 

Before he could think more of it, the door to his room was kicked open. He stifled the scream he wanted to emit, instead, covering himself as much as possible. He looked up from underneath his bangs, taking a more defensive position--well, as defensive as one can get when in the fetal position--as two men walked in, blood splattered over their clothes. The one on the left wolf whistled, dark golden eyes raking across Chanyeol’s naked form as a smirk curled his lips up. ‘_Why does he remind me of the stray cat that used to wander around Yixing’s garden?_’ He thought before his attention was caught by the man’s voice. 

“Well, well, well. Aren’t _you_ a cute one.” The man snorted when Chanyeol flushed a bright shade of pink. He curled to cover himself more when the man on the left took another step closer. His long overcoat swished near his ankles as he moved, the two blades strapped to his back creaking as the man on the right gripped his shoulder.  
“Jongdae, stop. You _know_ Kyungsoo said if we found anyone on this side to immediately find him.” The one on the right protested, and Chanyeol felt his heart flip at the name. ‘_What? Why did my chest suddenly do that..?_’ He frowned to himself, placing a hand over his heart as he stared at the one on the right. He recognized him immediately from the memory the man shared with him before. His hair was still blonde, though it was long enough to cover his eyes now. His torso was covered by a thick winter coat and his pants were flecked with blood and bits of flesh, and he recognized the glistening silver metal that peeked out from underneath his sleeve as his prosthetic arm. ‘_So this is the boy so close to my soulmate?_’ He wondered, flinching when the man on the left, Jongdae, let out a sharp bark of laughter. 

“You’re just a momma’s little boy, aren’t ya, _Sehunnie_.” He teased with an eye roll, jerking his shoulder to remove--Sehunnie's?--hand. '_Maybe it's a nickname?_'  
“No, I just don’t want to deal with Kyungsoo’s bad attitude if you don’t listen to him. He’s been extra cranky lately and I wouldn’t put it past him to bury your ass under a mound of rocks if you pissed him off. And I told you not to call me that!” He snapped, dark eyebrows furrowing when Jongdae only seemed to find his words amusing. Chanyeol’s heart did another odd spasm when hearing that specific name. ‘_Kyungsoo? Who is Kyungsoo and why is he affecting me like this…?_’  
“Why not, _Sehunnie_? It’s a cute little nickname your dream fairy gave you, don’tcha think?” He pushed, cackling at the blush on Sehunnie’s cheeks. What caught Chanyeol’s attention was the ‘_dream fairy_’ part. ‘_Does...does he get dreams too? And...and he talks to his soulmate?!_’ The last part shocked him enough that he squeaked out loud, but that didn’t seem to bother the other two men as they kept going back and forth.  
“He’s more like an elf than a fairy...but I told you that last part in confidence! You aren’t supposed to just throw around that name like that!” Sehunnie pouted, but before Jongdae could respond, a low voice spoke to them from the shadows.  
“I asked you to do one thing, and you couldn’t even do that right, could you Jongdae?” A heavy clank of armor followed the voice, and in walked a third man. 

His black hair stuck out in different directions, a few pieces falling into his violet-colored eyes as his mouth twisted down into a frown. His thick eyebrows were furrowed, eyes narrowed into slits as he glared at Jongdae. A large, massive axe hung from his back, flecks of drying and wet blood coating the opaque iron. His body was encased in gleaming black armor, also covered in blood, as a slate grey cape pooled around his shoulders and stopped at his ankles. His tanned face was a mix of sterness and softness as he looked at his two companions; cheeks round, lips red and plump, nose slightly crooked and jaw clearly defined. A long scar ran across the bridge of his nose and another one split through his lips, only adding to his contradictory appearance. Chanyeol felt as if he couldn’t breathe. The familiar armor, hair, weapon--the familiar everything of the man in front of him synced up with the man from his dreams. '_Though his cloak isn't black anymore._' He absently thought as his shock wore off. 

“Aw, that’s just _hurtful_, Soo. We lead you to what you wanted, didn’t we?” Jongdae smirked, hand waving over to Chanyeol’s huddled form. Kyungsoo’s frown morphed into a glare, mouth opening to respond when Chanyeol finally found his voice.  
“Kyungsoo..?” He whispered. The man’s attention immediately snapped to him, and as soon as their eyes connected, Chanyeol knew that he was right. Kyungsoo was his soulmate; the man from his dreams. Judging by the sudden happiness filling his eyes, Kyungsoo recognized him as well. He couldn't stop the smile from pulling up his lips even if he tried to, his chest feeling light and airy. 

There was a small moment of silence as Kyungsoo stared at Chanyeol. His eyes darted over his face, down his torso and to his feet before snapping back up to his eyes.  
"Leave." He mumbled quietly, and for a moment Chanyeol thought he was talking to him. He turned to look at Jongdae and Sehunnie, a hard look on his face as he repeated his earlier sentence. Jongdae's eyes narrowed, glancing back and forth between Chanyeol and Kyungsoo with a curious look in his eyes. 

"_Oh_? And let _you_ have all the fun? C'mon, Soo, I'm sure we can share him." There was a sharpness to his smirk as he stared at Kyungsoo, a hint of challenge in his gaze as he leaned onto his other foot. Kyungsoo’s look shifted, a darker look tinting his expression as his lips curled up over his teeth. The message was as clear as day and the possessive anger made Chanyeol’s stomach fill with heat. It honestly looked like Kyungsoo would start _growling_ when Jongdae didn't back down and Chanyeol was beginning to wonder if a full out brawl would break out. The tension was broken by Sehunnie as he placed a hand on Jongdae's shoulder.  
"What part of _leave_ do you not understand." Sehunnie hissed, obviously unsettled by the death glare Kyungsoo was sending them both. He gripped Jongdae's shoulder tightly, forcibly pulling him out of the room with low, muttered curses. Jongdae followed, smirk still etched on his face as the wooden door closed behind them. He could barely make out Sehunnie's muffled words as their voices got father and farther away. Kyungsoo waited until their voices and footsteps disappeared completely before he turned back to Chanyeol. 

"What's your name." His words came off as more of a demand than a question, and it was evident that the previous confrontation left a visible tension under his skin. Chanyeol felt his breath hitch at the sudden heat that filled Kyungsoo’s eyes as he trailed them over his naked body. There was still a dark, almost jealous look on his face but that only sent sparks of want straight to his lower stomach. He swallowed before he whispered out his name.  
"Chanyeol. Park...Park Chanyeol." The softness of his voice earned him a small chuckle, Kyungsoo walking a few steps closer before squatting down in front of him. He rested his elbows on his knees, arms loosely dangling in between his spread thighs as he cocked his head to the side.  
"Chanyeol." He felt something in his chest burn as he heard his name and before he realized it, he was throwing himself at Kyungsoo. He landed on his ass with a small grunt when he suddenly had a lapfull of a naked Chanyeol. He winced when his skin scraped against his black armor, but he instantly melted into his cold embrace when his arms came up to wrap around his shoulders. 

"You found me." His words tumbled from his lips, muffled as he buried his face in Kyungsoo's wild hair. He felt soft lips curl into a smile against his neck, his fingers digging into the meat of his shoulders as his deep voice rumbled out.  
"I finally found you, my sweet boy." Chanyeol choked back an embarrassing noise as he pushed himself even closer. Kyungsoo's answering laugh didn't help the hot flush traveling down his neck.  
"Such a precious little thing, aren't you?" He scraped his teeth against a spot near his jugular, stroking the strong planes of his back as Chanyeol let out a weak gasp. He reluctantly pulled himself back, breath stuttering when he met the darkly colored eyes of Kyungsoo. He let his fingertips trace over his face, so unbearably happy that he could see him clearly--hear his actual voice and _communicate_ face-to-face. 

"I love you." He blurted before he could think twice, and the gentle smile he got in return made his heart thump rapidly.  
"I love you too, Chanyeol." His hand slid up to cup the back of his neck, slowly guiding him down to meet his lips. Chanyeol closed his eyes, a quiet noise gurgling from the back of his throat when their mouths met. Kyungsoo started off gentle--softly moving their mouths against each other while his fingers lightly gripped his neck--but he soon turned it into something much hotter, darker when Chanyeol let loose a muffled whimper. The hand on his neck clamped down, his teeth nipping at his bottom lip as he hauled Chanyeol closer. He parted his mouth open with a gasp when the sting registered, nails digging into the cool armor under his hands when Kyungsoo's tongue slipped past his open mouth. 

Chanyeol lost himself in the fiery kiss, fingers scrambling for purchase when his back hit the stone floor. He could feel himself get more and more excited as they continued to sloppily kiss, a pained whine emitting from his mouth when his erect cock rubbed the wrong way against Kyungsoo's armor clad thigh.  
"Ah, I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?" Kyungsoo pulled back far enough to look into his eyes, his mouth curling down as he ran a hand down his thigh. Chanyeol nodded, lower lip sticking out when he pressed an apologetic kiss to his cheek. Before he could say anything, a familiar voice called out from behind the door. 

"_Not to interrupt you and your boy, but Minseok is calling for a meeting. We need to discuss what our next move is._" Jongdae's voice still held a bit of teasing to it, though now there was an undercurrent of steel that brokered no room for argument. Chanyeol watched as Kyungsoo's mouth curled into a silent snarl, voice deceptively calm as he answered back.  
"I'll be right there." For a moment the air was quiet, no indication that Jongdae moved until his footsteps walked away from the door.  
"...You have to go?" He wanted to immediately hide way when his voice came out a sad whisper. '_He has other duties than to tend to-_'  
"You're coming with me, of course." Chanyeol blinked, ducking his head when Kyungsoo's mouth was pulled up into a knowing half smile. He felt embarrassed but it was drowned out by an overwhelming amount of relief. He didn't want to be separated from his soulmate so quickly.  
"C'mon," He was pulled up relatively easily, the cool air drafting over his body reminding him that he was, in fact, completely naked. He let out a small yelp, instinctively hiding his--now slightly flaccid--cock as he avoided eye contact. Kyungsoo snorted. "It's not like we haven't seen each other before." He started unfastening the cloak hooked around his neck. Chanyeol spluttered but couldn't deny that he was right. '_I don't even know why but...I feel so shy right now._' His face was beet red and he could feel the flush travel down his neck to his chest.  
"Here, put this on." He blinked when the cloak was shoved towards him, but obediently slipped on the dark grey fabric. His eyes widened when the ends elongated to accommodate his superior height, floating near his ankles as the middle came together to hide his bare body.  
"I had it enchanted. A seer had recommended it, and now I see why she did." Kyungsoo mumbled, a hint of possessiveness buried in his low voice as he looked him up and down.  
"Oh." Chanyeol didn't know how to respond, but he couldn't deny that a warm feeling settled in his chest when he heard the tone in his voice. 

"Come, before Minseok gets impatient." He slid his hand around Chanyeol's waist, resting his spread fingers on the curve of his hip as he steered them to and out the door. He didn't mind being led, thoughts too focused on the happy feeling coursing through his veins as he soaked up the warmth of Kyungsoo's palm. '_He finally found me. He's...he's finally here._' A small, giddy laugh exited his mouth before he could stop it, the corner of Kyungsoo's mouth curling up even as he kept his face forward. Chanyeol leaned in as close as he could, sighing when the hand on his hip squeezed. 

He didn't know what his future with Kyungsoo would bring, but he was determined to keep him as close and as safe as possible. That, and hopefully, acquire his assistance in rescuing his captive brothers. '_Something tells me that Kyungsoo is more than willing to rebel against the Church._' He thought with a wicked grin, excitement building up in his gut as he imagined the damage he and Kyungsoo could do together. 

And what damage they would do. 


End file.
